Dancing on the Edge
by Sanded Silk
Summary: Through a strange series of coincidences, Neji is now a sixteen-year-old tightrope walker at the circus. When he's out walking one night, he witnesses a car accident, and saves the strangest girl he has ever met... NejiSaku
1. Chapter 1

A NejiSaku something I've decided to start. I don't know exactly how long this will be, but I'll improvise as I go... which will make this suck... a lot... :-/

Neji's in the strangest place for him to be in the world; the circus. One day, as he is walking in the dark streets of Konoha, thinking about how he came to be in a circus, he walks into a car accident, where he finds a traumatized girl. He brings her back to the circus, and from there on, I'll be improvising... o.O

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. I'm working on it though, and when I do own Naruto, you'll be able to tell, because NejiSaku will become canon IMMEDIATELY... XD**

--Sanded Silk--

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--Neji's POV-- 

I'm still a bit confused about how I came to be a performer in the only circus in Konoha. And yet the history is completely clear, perfectly reasonable. But me, a Hyuuga, son of the boss of Konoha's largest technological company, making a living as a... circus performer...? It's still a bit strange to me, even after the coincidence of events were finished, ending me here in the big tent.

It had all started with that one occurence in the company; the one that got my father out of the business. Slowly, our income went further and further down the drain, until we were practically living on the streets. Then one day, my father and mother decided to live a new life, and they ran off... without me.

I cried for the longest time. I was alone, in the streets, only 6. Imagine what an impact the disappearance of my parents had on me.

Then the ringmaster, on a nightly stroll, found me whimpering in the shadows of the alleys. He offered me a home at the circus, and I agreed, not seeing any other way out of my current life on the street. I followed him through the town to the big tent, where everyone welcomed me warmly. No one had been that nice to me in my life.

At first, for the earliest few weeks I spent at the big tent, I was content with merely watching the performers rehearse and perform and work their backs. But then, guilt began to sink in. The disappearance of my parents had taught me one important thing; to be independent, to be able to support oneself. And seeing those actors perform and work with meager salaries, I began to feel as though I wasn't working my share; eating the circus' food without pay, and taking up space and money.

Finally, at about the fourth week of my stay at the circus, I asked the ringmaster for a part in the whole circus act. At first, the ringmaster was reluctant; I didn't have prior training in anything physical, and there really weren't any gaping holes in the program. But, I insisted, and finally, the ringmaster placed me as an understudy of the tightrope walker.

The tightrope walker, a nice lady with deep red hair and soft green eyes, taught me the basics of balancing on the rope. I learned to focus my attention on my center, my line of balance. I began to walk unsteadily on the rope- which was only allowed 10 feet above the ground when I was on it- after only four days of off-rope training, and by the end of two weeks, I was doing basic tricks on the tightrope; flips, leaps, and the hardest I could manage then; the tricycle act. Since then, I have been in perfect physical shape.

Two years after I officially joined the circus, the nice tight-rope lady died of a car accident a week after her birthday. Everyone grieved deeply, and it took us a long time to regain our previous, rigorous schedule. People moped about for the longest possible time, faces drawn, voices low.

For the sake of my deceased trainer, I trained myself to my limits and beyond. I had observed her graceful movements on the tightrope, and had memorized most of her tricks by watching. I began to try those tricks, getting better and better, until the ringmaster, after watching one of my rigorous training sessions, three years after the death of my trainer, decided to officially add me to the circus program.

I was the youngest member of the circus then. I was only eleven, and the tailor wasted a lot of cloth making a costume small enough for me; he had not made clothing for children in around fifteen years.

When I first entered the stage, the lights shined brightly on me, and the roar of the audience rang in my ears. Slightly dazed, I headed for the ladder, and stood at the end of the rope, ready. The audience silenced, waiting, and the music began. I took a deep, deep breath, tested the rope with my feet, and began.

The silence of the crowd remained throughout my whole program. Towards the end, as I struck my ending pose in the dead center of the rope, the crowd was still silent. Since I was young, I didn't know what this silence meant, and assumed the worst. Was I still that far behind my previous trainer? But before my spirits dropped to their lowest, before the smile stuck on my face began to peel off, the audience began to roar. And I mean ROAR.

The sound of clapping, cheering and whooping drowned out my own heartbeat as I stood in the center of the rope, uncertain. Then, the ringmaster caught my eye and motioned for me to bow. I bowed mechanically, and the crowd cheered louder. I could see small children jumping up and down, looking up at me with shining eyes. Camera flashes shone around me, and suddenly, then, I realized just how much I really loved tight-rope walking. I bowed again, this time more naturally, and clambered down the ladder with shaky legs. My walk to the curtain-covered area behind the stage took a while, because I couldn't walk straight.

Since then, I was the official tightrope walker of the circus, and I haven't stopped at anything yet.

Now, I am sixteen years old, and I was taking a walk on the quiet, dark street of Konoha, the cool air comforting me. I was completely at peace. Suddenly, a loud noise rang out. A car came flying around the bend. The screech of rubber against concrete and the blood-curdling scream of a woman were heard, before an ear-splitting, ominous crash ensued. A flash of light lit up the street for a moment, and I stood still, momentarily blinded. When I could see again, a wall of flames and smoke had surrounded the car. The car had carved a huge dent into a nearby telephone pole. I was in a sort of daze for a few long moments.

Then, common sense took over once again, and I panicked. What was I supposed to do now? I looked around. No one on this lonely street knew of this accident. I was the sole witness. Worst of all, I didn't have a cell phone with me to call the police and the ambulance with. I took a deep breath, and dove into the flames.

It was extremely hot. That was all I could remember of the first few moments I spent in that flame-surrounded place. The heat burned my skin, singed my hair, and the heat waves erupting from the flames made everything look shaky. The sound of roaring flames and crackling metal mixed with the pounding of my heart echoing in my ears. I kept a hand over my mouth as I tried to see clearly, looking for any sign of a survivor. Then, I nearly tripped over a body.

It was a girl, probably around my age. I bent down to examine her body. Her arms and face were covered with scratches, soot, and burn marks. Her short pink hair was singed, and her foot was stuck in the car door, which had bent over from the impact and was probably burning a hole into her leg.

I quickly kicked the door away, easily sending it off its hinges. Then, I bent down, picked the girl up by her head and shoulders, and pressed my cheek against where her heart was. I felt the vibration of her heart beating steadily, and I was relieved. I lifted my head and surveyed the car. It didn't look like there were any other survivors in this accident.

I stood up with the girl in my arms, and looked for a way out. When my gaze passed over her face, I realized that her eyes were open. I stopped, uncertain.

Then, her lips moved slightly, and tears began to pour down her cheeks.

Confused, I leaned my ear toward her ear, and strained my ear to hear what she was saying. "D…Don't take me to the hospital…"

Now I was REALLY confused. Why didn't this girl want professional help with her injuries?

Her lips were moving again, and I leaned down again to listen. "…They… They kill people there…"

I was bewildered. What did she mean? Who killed who? At the hospital?

"My mother...sick…hospital…died…"

I was uncertain of what to do, as I knelt there, in the sea of flames and melting metal, a stranger losing consciousness as she sought comfort in my arms.

--Sakura's POV--

I thought my life was over when I tripped on my way out of the car and couldn't get back up. I thought, as I watched the flames draw nearer, that this would be how my short sixteen years would end.

The only thing I hoped for then was for no one to find me. I didn't want someone to see me, a tangle of limbs, and think to take me to the accursed hospital. I had a grudge with the hospital then; a little something about my mother that the hospital was responsible for. But that was then.

Just when I was about to give up and close my eyes to wait, I felt a cooling presence nearby. My eyes shot open, and standing above me was an angel with long dark hair and pale eyes, who looked about my age. My previous thoughts were swept blank at the sight of this boy. He was looking straight down at me, looking as confused as I was. He kicked the car door, which was trapping my leg, out of the way. He bent over, and pressed the side of his face to my heart, listening for any sign of life. When he heard my heart beating, he sat back up, looking relieved. He swept one last glance over the ruined car, picked me up easily, and stood up.

When he was about to walk away, carrying me with him, he saw my eyes open, and stared at me. I took this chance to tell him what was on my mind. I tried to tell him that I didn't want to go to the hell-bound hospital where my mother had met her fate, and I hoped he would understand, like other people did.

This stranger didn't understand. This teenage boy, with his concerned silver eyes, his long chestnut hair gleaming in the firelight, his strong, gentle arms keeping me above the ground, one arm under my knees and the other around my shoulders and keeping my head from slumping… If my mind had been intact then, I would have fallen in love.

But all I was feeling was physical pain, and frustration, and the flames had muddled my brain, making my thoughts strange and unreasonable. Didn't this boy know? Didn't he know how my mother entered the hospital and never came back out?

No, of course he didn't, and I realized that when my brain cooled and began to think clearly, which was later. But the impact and shock of the car accident had knocked my brains loose a bit, and I wasn't thinking clearly. All I knew was that the last places I wanted to end up in was the hospital, and I was trying to get that message across to my savior.

But he wasn't getting it.

All I could do was lie back, helpless, as he decided to ignore my words and began to look for a way out of the mess.

I closed my eyes and waited. When the cool air finally washed over my body, I couldn't help but sigh. The cool air soothed me, cooled my skin, crept through my hair and calmed my muddled mind. With a start, I realized that the cool air also meant that the mysterious young man had found a way out of the flames. And the next place he was probably going to take me was the hospital.

I began to struggle as violently as I could. "Don't…" was all I could say, because the soot I had breathed in had finally begun to take an effect on my throat. He stopped, knelt down, and took off his jacket. He draped the soft material over my shoulders, picked me up, and continued.

I had so many questions. Who was he? Why was he saving me? Was he going to take me to the hospital? But I was too weak to summon the air in my lungs to speak, too weak to leap out of his arms and run away. So I closed my eyes, and waited once again for my fate to arrive.

--Neji's POV--

When the girl's eyelids finally drooped and her breathing finally evened, I dropped my calm façade and fairly freaked out. What was I going to do now? Should I go against the girl's wishes and take her to that "accursed" hospital, or should I take her to the circus?

I stared down at the girl's face, which reflected her pain even in her sleep, and decided to follow her wishes. After all, if the ringmaster opposed to keeping her here, I could always take her to the hospital.

I sighed, and continued walking.

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**A/N:** Whew! First chapter done. I'll start working on the second as soon as I am done posting this one. Hope you all liked it! Please review!!!

--Sanded Silk--


	2. Chapter 2

Second chapter. Beware; this one SUCKS. --is heartbroken--

**Disclaimer: HLGBLARRRRRRRRRRRRGGGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! --wheeze--**

--Sanded Silk-- ♥

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--Sakura's POV--

When I finally woke up, my eyes didn't want to open. My mind had cleared, but I was still a bit confused about what happened and where I was. All I could remember of the accident then was a flash of white, a streak of chestnut, and a sense of peace.

I did notice, however, that parts of my arms and legs were bandaged, and a larger bandage was wrapped around my head. My head hurt, but the pain was faraway, dull.

When my eyes did open, the lights were dim. It was probably night time, I thought. I took awhile to compose myself, and tried to sit up.

Then, a strong, familiar hand landed gently on my shoulder, and though the contact was not strong, the force of the touch sent me falling back onto the bed that I was lying on. My eyes closed momentarily, and I quietly cursed the condition of my body.

"Whoa," A steady, controlled male voice said. "Sorry about that." My eyes flew open, and what I saw brought the memories of the car accident crashing back. It was the face of her savior, the young man with the pale eyes and the long dark hair.

I must have squeaked, or jumped, or shown some kind or startled reaction, because the stranger suddenly looked concerned. "It's ok," He said quickly. "Don't you remember me?"

I nodded. "…Yes." An extremely awkward silence followed. I wanted to fill it with something, but my mind was blank. Should I have said thank you then?

But then, he sighed. "Uh…" He scratched the nape of his neck slowly, unsure of what to do. "Hm." Then he dropped his hand, and lifted the corner of his mouth. "Well then, let me start by introducing myself." He bowed slightly, and held out a hand for her to shake.

"Hyuuga Neji."

Uncertain as always around strangers, I nodded my head slightly, and took his hand. A surge of warm electricity washed through me, and I struggled to keep myself from shivering. "H-Haruno Sakura."

Afterwards, Neji explained to me what my options were, now that my parents were gone. No matter what, I had to settle my family affairs. Alone. That was a scary thought by itself, but I forced myself to remain at least partially calm, and listened to him as he continued. He told me that I had three options after settling family affairs: to live by myself, to move and live with my closest- geographically speaking- relatives (whom I hated), or to become a circus performer and live at the circus.

After a bit of talking, I acquiesced to settle my family affairs first, in order to get that out of the way. I signed all of the papers needed- with a few reminders from Neji to read carefully- and managed to remain patient throughout the whole event.

Finally, the pile of papers I needed to fill out dwindled to nothing and a stack of finished papers sat in front of me. After I had mailed my papers off to their appropriate places, I sat down with Neji and the ringmaster to talk. After a long period of talking, I decided to move into the circus and to become a trainee of Neji in tightrope walking.

For two years, I trained on the rope, and gradually learned all of Neji's tricks and moves. I performed in the circus alternately with Neji. The first time I was on the rope, I slipped, but quickly changed it into a double flip, landing perfectly on my feet. To this day, I hope that no one realized that it was a little mess-up.

One day, during training, not long after my accident, Neji and I were taking a break. He had just taught me how to do a back-flip without the support of my hands on the ground. I was sitting on the ground, too tired to crawl to a nearby chair, and Neji was standing calmly, waiting patiently for me to recover.

Normally, this small break, which we often took, was completely silent. But this time was different. Neji had a curious, pondering look on his face while I was sitting on the ground, and I happened to catch a glance of it when I looked up at him.

"What is it?" I asked. He snapped to attention. "What?"

I sighed. "That look on your face. I know you have something on your mind."

He sighed, and his gaze flickered away from me. "You… on the day of the accident, you know which one, right?" I nodded. "You said something to me when I was carrying you away from the fire. You kept telling me to not take you to the hospital."

My breath hitched in my throat, and for a moment, white noise echoed in my ears. Just as suddenly as it came on, it dies out, too. I shook my head slightly, and answered his unasked question.

"My mother… she died. At the hospital. From a car accident." The lump in my throat was threatening to rise to my mouth. "She used to be a tightrope-walker here, did you know?" Neji remained silent, waiting for her to continue, which she did. "They…they wouldn't let my father decide what kind of treatment my mother should go under. 'You don't have any knowledge in the medical or surgical area,' they said. 'Leave it to us.'"

I sighed, forcing the lump that would surely bring tears back down my throat, deep into my stomach, where it had been staying ever since my mother died. "And you can imagine what happened next."

Neji didn't seem to know what to say. I didn't blame him, however: I knew him well by this point, and I knew how bad he was with sentimental situations. So I didn't glare at him, expecting an answer. Instead, I sat still, staring at the ground, waiting for the right moment to suggest that we continue the training session.

However, that moment never came. Instead, I found myself wishing to describe my mother to anyone who would listen.

So that's what I did. "I want to tell you about my mother," I said to Neji. He looked startled, and opened his mouth to say something, but I held up my hand. "Please," I pleaded. "Please don't talk. Just listen."

He paused, uncertain, and nodded. "All right." He sat down across from me, ready to listen. "Talk away."

I was extremely grateful, and began.

I took a deep breath and began.

"My mother had red hair. Deep red hair. She always wore her hair in a loose bun, its positioning depending on her mood. Her eyes were soft green, and always reflected so much wisdom. She was short; probably my height now, but extremely flexible and strong." I paused, frowning. "She performed as a tight-rope walker, as you already know. I thought you might know her." Neji cocked his head to the side, contemplating. "What was her name?"

"Er… Haruno Rin."

Neji's eyebrows flew up. "A-Ah."

Sakura sat up straighter. "What? Did you know who she was?!"

Neji blinked slowly, and Sakura thought she saw pain flash through his eyes. "She… She was my teacher."

I was at a loss for words. Who would have known: he and I had a sort of link with each other after all. Hm.

After I had been performing for about three years- I had been in the circus for a total of four years now- a problem came up. Most of the circus' fans wanted to see Neji and I performing on the rope; at the same time.

Two people couldn't interact on the tightrope, and both Neji and I knew that perfectly well. We worked hard to work out a new way of performing, while using tightrope-walking skills.

We finally came up with a solution.

And finally, the big day came, where we would first publicly show off our new style.

The crowds were murmuring with curiosity when they saw the set-up for our new act, which was a net of tightrope-walking rope. However, they cheered twice as loudly as usual, ignoring their curiosity, when I stepped onto the stage, hand in hand with Neji. We climbed up onto the net of ropes; him on one side, me on the other. We waited patiently for the music to start. The crowd fell silent as well, wondering what we were about to do.

And when it did, Neji and I began moving in unison. We flipped and leapt into the center of the net, where we met.

It was like dancing on the clouds, except in a much more risky way; like dancing on the edge of a knife. Neji and I constantly had to balance and hold each other; dancing on a net of ropes wasn't as easy as it seemed.

Step, twirl, dip. It was wonderful and exhilarating, nothing like the practice rounds.

Dancing on the edges of the rope; it was like dancing on the edge of a cloud; beautiful and exhilarating, but dangerous as well.

When we stopped, we were in a very dangerous position. He and I were sharing one knot on which the rope met; my right foot and his right foot were resting gingerly on it. His other foot was stretched out behind him on another knot, and my knee was lifted beside him. I leaned my head back, and felt his warm breath beat heavily and quickly on my neck, his loose hair gently draping over my chest and shoulders as his head hovered over my chest and neck.

The crowd was silent. I was getting worried. Did they not like the performance?

And suddenly, the blast of the sudden applause and cheering nearly knocked me off balance. I had to put down my other foot and balance on two knots with both legs.

Neji loosened his grip on me, keeping his right arm lightly draped around my hip, and leaned down to brush his nose against my hair. "Well done, Sakura," He murmured in my ear. I could only smile at him.

And then, his arms were around me, hugging me close to his sweaty chest. I smiled into the crook of his neck, and returned his embrace.

I remembered that day, when I had chosen to live here in the circus. And I knew that I would never regret that choice. My smile widened, and I burrowed my face into my partner's neck.

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**A/N:** Meh. Pretty good, I guess… I just really hate this last chapter. The plot sucks- is there a plot!?- and the ending sucks as well, as always. AUGH. I'm sorry; it seems like the author's block is spreading to my other stories… /

Hmmph. Ah well. Please **_REVIEW_**, as I always tell you all. XD

--Sanded Silk--


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